


Phlochte Drabbles 1-12

by CupcakeGirlA



Series: Phlochte Drabble Series [1]
Category: Olympics RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Double Drabble, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeGirlA/pseuds/CupcakeGirlA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>12 unrelated Ryan Lochte/Michael Phelps drabbles/double-drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phlochte Drabbles 1-12

1\. Contrast  
Mike’s tongue sweeps in long teasing motions, gliding wet hot across the top of Ryan’s thigh. It traces the smooth unbroken tan-line; following along the crease where hip meets leg. He holds his breath, tensing at the rough feel of Michael’s taper beard scratching along his inner thigh. Teeth follow the same path and he groans, one hand twisting in white hotel room sheets, the other threading through dark dark hair. Light. Dark. Contrast. 

He can feel Mike’s answering smile as he sucks a love bite on the curve of his hip, darkening the pale un-sun-kissed skin. A secret bruise. 

 

2\. Blue  
You are convinced that the blue of Ryan’s eyes does not exist in nature. It’s not the green-blue of the ocean in Florida, or the darker greyer blue of the Inner Harbor back home in Baltimore. It’s not the blue of the sky on a clear cloudless summer day, or the mottled blue of spidery veins under tan skin. 

But it’s also not the rough faded blue of well-loved denim or the crystalline color of the perfect pool water. 

It’s Ryan Blue, you decide. A passionate, fiercely competitive, sunny, loving, happy, horny blue. Blue that shines most brightly for you. 

 

3\. Reward  
They don’t have a reward system. Not between the two of them. It would go against the whole “not-talking-about-what-happens-inside-the-pool-outside-the-pool” thing they had decided on long ago, back before they started sleeping together. Talk about awkward. Michael can’t imagine winning a race and going back to their shared dorm room/hotel room, and offering Ryan compensation sex. And he can’t stomach the idea of Ryan doing the same to him. So, no, what happens in the pool, stays in the pool. But if that night’s winner is maybe a little more tender… well, that can usually be explained away as simple tiredness.

 

4\. Push/5. Pack (double-drabble)  
He presses closer in his sleep, body pushing tighter against yours in the humid air of your bedroom. It’s hot tonight, even in Baltimore. You’ve kicked Herman out and gone to sleep with Ryan beside you. Nothing but a thin sheet covering you both. You close your eyes, breathing in the scent of Ryan, sex, and the salty tang of the air blowing in through the open windows. You don’t want this night to end. Tomorrow he’ll get up, shower, pack, and fly home. Who knows how long it will be before you see him again. You bury your head in the curls of his hair, and slide your arms around him further. He sighs in his sleep, body going pliant everywhere. It’s too warm and sticky to lay pressed together like this, but you don’t push him away. You cling tighter instead. He groans, and you loosen your grip, not wanting to wake him. 

“Go to sleep, Mike,” he orders, voice groggy, tired lips slurring on your name. You grin in spite of yourself. 

“Can’t,” you reply. He blinks open sleepy eyes. 

“3 weeks,” he says. “And I’ll be back, ok?” 3 weeks? You can handle that. You sleep.

 

6\. Enough/7. Sacrifice (double-drabble)  
You love him enough that you considered, however briefly, not swimming the IMs or the 200 free. You would instead stick to your flys and the relays, leaving the medleys to Ryan. Back out gracefully, unselfishly. But you knew the reactions not swimming them would garner. From your coach, family, the press. From Ryan. That you were hiding from your own potential (Bob), sacrificing (Mom), running scared (the press), trying to piss him off (Ryan). Ryan didn’t want anything handed to him, he wanted to earn it. You understood that. But that wasn’t what you wanted to do. You just wanted to make things simple between you. To eliminate the competition and the rivalry. Let Ryan swim his races, while you swim yours. Cut out all the tension and the bullshit that kept fucking things up between the two of you. Let you both be happy for once. You had nothing left to prove. You didn’t owe anyone anything. Instead you don’t drop any races. You go to Trials, and race, and pray that when it is all said and done that the bullshit building up between you and Ryan with each race doesn’t pile too high to be insurmountable.

 

8\. Shove/9. Context (double-drabble)  
To say you’re surprised when you come across the two of them would be an understatement. But there they are, the two of them locked together, the smaller of the two pushed up against the concrete wall behind the locker rooms, hands fisted in warm up jackets, faces red with exertion, and gazes locked. You clear your throat, arms crossing over your chest, as you stare them down. 

“Ryan,” you say, voice short. He shoves Tyler up against the wall, hard, backing away. You watch him tug his jacket back down over his hips. You fight to hide a smile. You look at Tyler, and he drops his gaze. 

“Mike. I swear they took it out of context. I’m so sorry!” he says. You look away, eyes landing on Ryan. 

“Come on, Ry. We’re going to be late,” you say. He stands still, eyes still fixed on Tyler. 

“You’re so full of shit, Clary. You have no business running your stupid fucking mouth. I don’t buy your bullshit about the taking it out of context. There’s no way what you said could be taken any other way,” he growls. You tug him away by his sleeve. Tyler’s not worth it.

 

10\. Threat/11. Instead (double-drabble)  
He had threatened to do it ahead of time. You hadn’t believed him. He was tired of pretending like you meant less than you did. 

“You’re retiring, Mike, so why keep hiding? I’m willing to risk it, and I actually have something to lose, why would you give a shit, when you don’t?” he’d asked. You hadn’t had an answer. You’d yanked him down into another kiss in an attempt to distract him, hoping he’d forget about it. Apparently he hadn’t. 

So here you are, clinging to the side of the pool, after the 200IM. You’ve finished 1-2 and the whole world is watching as you reach over the lane-line to hug him in celebration. Only he doesn’t just hug you back. Instead he grips the back of your head and yanks your mouth to his. You’re already gasping for air, but surprise drops your jaw. He takes full advantage, his tongue sliding between your lips. It’s only a few seconds before you respond, and then one hand slides up into his wet curls. He pulls back a minute later, and the world rushes back, a wall of sound and flashing light. You should be angry, instead you just smile. 

 

12\. Ride  
You and Ryan rarely get to hang-out in public. Before, you were training. Now, you’re both sort of famous in the wake of London. So when he suggests that you go to, of all places, Disney World, you laugh. But he has that look on his face, his determined not-taking-no-for-an-answer look. 

Two days later you’re running around the Magic Kingdom on a Tuesday afternoon with baseball caps pulled low and week old beards. You hold hands like teenagers on Splash Mountain, make-out in the dark of Haunted Mansion, and eat enough churros to make yourselves puke. It’s a perfect day.


End file.
